


How Sauron Ruined My Senior Year

by orphan_account



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The hobbits are home-schooled, Rohan and Gondor are football rivals, and you know Aragorn is going to win homecoming king at some point - that's right fools, it's a high school AU.
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II) & Merry Brandybuck & Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck & Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck & Éowyn, Merry Brandybuck/Éowyn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Merry Sees Eowyn or: Pippin Says Fuck

**Author's Note:**

> If I know you irl and you find this you cannot make fun of me because I said so!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Football. Friendship. Girl.

Eowyn Dernhelm was the best quarterback the Rohan Riders had ever seen, and only Merry seemed to know it.

* * *

It was a chilly night in the winter of Merry’s sophomore year, and Pippin dragged him to a football game. Pip had just started at Gondor earlier that year but was already obsessed with every cliche aspect of high school culture, including football. He’d tried out for the Gondor Guards three times, each attempt recounted to Merry in melodramatic detail. Pippin always resolved to give it another go, no matter how scathing the comments of the coach were.

And finally, that fateful winter, Pippin got his wish - sort of. Coach Denethor relegated him to the practically ceremonial position of waterboy, a decision Merry personally agreed with on account of his friend’s nonexistent talent for football. Merry never would’ve admitted this to Pip, on account of his friend’s incomparable passion for the sport he could barely play.

They arrived at the game and Pippin managed to sneak Merry down to the player’s bench by affixing him with a Gondor Guards hat and large foam finger. Apparently, an excess of school pride was a convincing disguise, because the team manager keeping vague watch at the entrance to the field simply slapped Merry on the back and sent him through with a “Hell yeah, little dude!”

As the tunnel opened to the field, Merry gasped. He’d seen football on TV, but in person - holy shit! Taking in the massive stretch of clipped grass between goal posts he better understood why Pippin had struggled in tryouts. Running across the field just once would’ve finished Merry off. Strewn across the lines were players warming up, Gondor in black and grey and Rohan in red and gold. The guys were stretching, jogging, and doing a whole lot more ass-slapping than Merry would’ve expected from the straightest sport he knew.

Then there was a whole other beast: the stands. The seats stretched all around the stadium and up into the fog, packed with row after row of screaming teenagers all somehow mustering enthusiasm in weather cold enough to see your breath in. Merry was glad Pippin had secured him a seat on the sidelines. Not only would he have had a hard time seeing over all the tall people, but the raw school pride and hormonal energy were… a lot.

“Hey, Merry! Over here!”

Merry turned away from the crowd and spotted Pippin jumping up and down by the players’ bench, wearing an over-sized Guards hat and two giant foam fingers (which would’ve been detrimental to his role as waterboy if the job was not completely unnecessary).

“Pip!” yelled Merry as he ran towards his friend, slamming their foam fingers together in a ridiculous high-one. Pippin laughed, and Merry felt a lot better about the cold and the giant field and the screaming crowd. He was with his bro, and they were happy.

“You have got to meet Boromir,” Pippin insisted, marching towards the tallest, scariest member of the team that Merry never would’ve approached if not for his friend’s assurance. The hulk greeted Pip with a fist bump before spotting Merry.

“You must be Merry!” Boromir boomed, his face breaking into a smile much larger and warmer than Merry would’ve expected.

“Oh, yeah. Hullo!” Merry responded. He could make new friends, right?

“Boromir here is linebacker, and an incredible one at that,” Pippin bragged, attempting to sling his arm around the senior’s shoulders but ending up just patting him on the arm.

“If only he'd notice it,” Boromir grunted in response. “It’s like I’d have to die for him to actually appreciate me.” He nodded at Coach Denethor, who was intently talking to a player who looked a lot like Boromir.

“Is that your twin?” asked Merry.

“No,” said Boromir. “He’s my-”

“Brother!” interrupted Pippin. “Boromir and Faramir are Coach’s sons. Nepotism is rampant on this team.” He dramatically crossed his arms and Boromir started grinning again.

“You know, a lot of people think me and Pip’re twins,” piped up Merry. “But we’re just cousins.”

“Family?” Boromir chuckled, “then you’re allowed to join the Guards.”

Pippin mock-gasped.

“Was that a joke? From you, the jockiest-jock I know? About a political term?”

Boromir awkwardly bowed, which only made Pip tease him more. Merry agreed the humor was surprising but was glad Pippin had found at least one friend at Gondor. Short homeschooled guys who made too many jokes and often smelled of weed weren’t known to be popular, or so movies said. But here Pippin was proving them wrong, one linebacker at a time.

A piercing whistle sounded from somewhere on the field, and the crowd roared.

“I should go,” Boromir said. “but Merry?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep Pippin out of trouble.”

Pip sputtered as Boromir jogged off, soon calling after him, “I was going to wish you luck, but nevermind then!”

Merry elbowed his friend, and said “I don’t know what lies you’ve been telling him, but I’m definitely not the responsible one.”

“Wait, if I’m not the responsible one,” Pippin wondered. “And you’re not the responsible one, then who…” He looked at Merry.

“Sam,” they said together, and once again started to laugh.

Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo had been homeschooled together by Frodo’s uncle for ages. And Samwise, while always eventually going along with their goofy schemes, was still the one to fret the most. Pip hadn’t invited Sam and Frodo to the game, partially because he said it was ‘bro time’ and mostly because something was growing between them that Merry and Pippin had made their task to kindle.

After Pippin squeezed his way into and out of the Guards huddle, Merry found himself seated on a frosty metal bench mere feet away from two dozen muscled players strapped to gills in plastic and pads. Then, before he knew it, the game began. Merry had little idea what was going on and soon got distracted by the team mascots dancing around the field (Gondor’s was a regal white tree with tonally clashing cartoon eyes while Rohan was represented by an anthropomorphic horse with _really_ defined muscles). His only clue as to whether Gondor was doing well or not was Pippin’s stream of deafening whoops and dramatic sighs.

Many minutes later Merry glanced at the clock and saw the game was approaching half-time. He was considering telling Pip he was going to head home since he really didn’t understand how to follow this game. Plus, since the sun had set it was even colder than before, but then: “Boromir!”

Pippin yelled as the senior raced down the field, clutching the ball. Merry tried to follow since Boromir actually seemed pretty cool and, in any case, was Pip’s friend. Just as he was nearing what Merry hoped was Gondor’s goal post, a Rohan player darted out from the pack and slammed Boromir into the ground, right as the second quarter ended. The Rider brushed themselves off and gave a celebratory salute to the crowd before trotting back to their bench, and for some inexplicable reason, Merry kept staring at them.

All he knew about this person was that they were really good at football (in his opinion) and - oh. They took off their helmet, and Merry saw a girl with short blond hair, a red, sweaty face, and bright blue eyes. She was really good at football, and she was beautiful. Merry stood. He was going to talk to her, he was-

“Horse-fucker!” Pippin was standing on the bench, cupping his hands around his mouth (thank God he wasn’t allowed a megaphone) and shouting at the Rohan girl. “You think you’re so great? Eat shit Eowyn!”

Denethor started to march over to the bench and Pippin made the wise decision to sit down and shut up. Merry made eye contact with the girl, blushed, and shrugged, trying to excuse Pip. She scowled at him and turned away. He suddenly remembered all the Guards merch he was wearing and quickly stripped off his hat and finger, much to Pippin’s chagrin, but it was too late.

In spite of the snow that started to fall and the promise of a cozy fire at home, Merry stayed for the rest of the game and kept his eyes on ‘Dernhelm 43’ the whole time. He learned that she was fast, smart, and surprisingly strong, but he didn’t get to see her face again.

On the way home, Pippin noticed Merry’s nearly blue fingers and started rubbing them warm, berating him for not keeping his hands in his pockets. (Merry had kept his hands clasped to his face the whole second half, in awe of _her_ ). Pip tried to ask him what he thought about the game, but when he realized Merry’s cluelessness he took it upon himself to explain every play the Guards had made that night and how Boromir had single-handedly led the team to success. Merry nodded along but wasn’t really paying attention. He was going to get on the Rohan Riders, whatever it took. But first, he’d have to go to high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in a magical land where you instantly know everyone's pronouns just by looking at them, btw, because I'm trans and I get to chose the escapist fantasy! 
> 
> ALSO I hope you all know how painful it is for me to have to think about football. My sources for this information are Glee and like three Google searches if you are here for accurate football this is not for you. At some point there is going to be a chapter where they all ride horses or play D&D or do something that I know about so I can cleanse myself of all the football that is going to happen.


	2. Eowyn Meets Merry or: Theoden is Sexist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handshakes. Showers. Lunchtime.

Eowyn laughed. “You really want to be on the football team?”

Before her stood the new kid, a sophomore around 5’4” with shaggy brown hair and the least muscle mass she thought possible for a teenage boy. He’d come up to her in the hall this morning, their first day back from the winter holidays, blushing beet-red but surprisingly smooth for someone so dorky-looking.

“Er, my name’s Merry,” he said, throwing out his name and palm as an afterthought.

She shook his hand. It was insanely soft. Where had this baby man come from?

“Eowyn,” she responded, trying to sound like as much of a cool upperclassmen as she could.

“I know,” Merry said, staring at her in some kind of awe, still holding on to her hand. She gently pried it away. He seemed sweet, at least.

“If you really want to join the team, you should find Coach Theoden or the captain and ask them about trying out. I’m just the quarterback,” she said, and saw Merry’s eyes quickly widen.

“Oh my God! You’re like, the main one! I knew it!” He frowned. “Wait, why aren’t you the captain?”

She didn’t know how this kid knew she was on the team yet still wasn’t aware of her backstory, but Eowyn was always happy to complain to someone new.

“That honor goes to my brother, Eomer, even though he’s done nothing to des-”

“Wait,” Merry interrupted. “Your brother’s on the Riders? That’s just like Boromir and Fa-”

She grabbed his wrists, leaning down to hold them tightly in front of his face.

“Do _not_ mention those _idiots_.”

Merry started to blush, which was weird. But God, she hated Denethor’s kids. They were the biggest bullies she knew, and slam-tackling B*romir last semester had felt fantastic. She suddenly remembered Merry and dropped his arms. He immediately began rubbing his wrists.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “Didn’t know you guys were rivals or whatever.”

Eowyn blinked.

“How could you know so much about me and so much about Gondor without knowing that we’re rivals?”

She had a thought.

Merry whined, “Oh, not the wrists again-”

“Are you from Gondor? Are you here to spy on us?”

She looked deep into his eyes and saw literally nothing looking back. Or was his empty-headedness all an act? She squeezed him harder.

After a moment, Merry came to his senses and squeaked, “I’m not a spy. I’ve just been homeschooled until now. I saw you at a game last semester. I’m…” He took a moment. “A fan?”

Eowyn grinned, once again dropping his wrists. No one had ever said they were a fan of hers before.

“In that case, welcome to Rohan, little home-school man.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said, and started to walk down the hall with more confidence than he should’ve been allowed. After a few seconds he turned back around with the same amount of confidence and asked, “Where exactly is the counselor’s office?”

Eowyn sighed. This was going to be an adventure.

* * *

“Fantastic work, Dernhelm!” called Coach Theoden from across the field.

Eowyn sighed. They’d been running laps around the field and even though she’d finished first, Eomer was being praised for having ‘better pacing.’ Last semester Eowyn would’ve called out her uncle, but nowadays she’d given that up. She was finally on the team after two years of trying, and she was willing to live with every slight, no matter how much they stung. Plus, it wasn’t like any of the other players would back her up.

As she cooled down, Eowyn remembered the kid from the hall - Merry? He’d been a little weird, but it might be nice to have another weird person on the team, if not just take some attention away from Eowyn. She jogged over to her uncle.

“Coach?” she asked sweetly. Theoden sighed and turned from where he was still congratulating Eomer.

“Yes, Eowyn? What is it?”

She held her composure.

“There’s a new kid who asked me earlier about joining the Riders. Could you set up a tryout for him, or something?”

Theoden glanced at Eomer. “Do you trust your sister’s judgement, Dernhelm?”

Eowyn looked intently at Eomer, but he didn’t need prompting.

“Of course, Coach. She’s the smartest person I know!”

“Well, if that’s so,” said Theoden, turning back to Eowyn, “he can join!”

Eowyn’s eyes lit up. Surely, it couldn’t be that e-

“But,” her uncle warned, “his mistakes are on you, Eowyn. I’ve got enough on my plate with coaching the rest of these boys, so this kid gets to be your responsibility.”

So, it wasn’t that easy. This didn’t even make sense!

“Coach!” Eomer butted in, “that’s entirely unfair! If anyone should have to do that, I mean, I’m the captain-”

“And I need your help with handling the _guys_ ,” explained Theoden. “I’m sure Eowyn is fully capable of looking after one kid.”

At that moment, Eowyn didn’t trust herself to open her mouth. She simply nodded and began marching towards the locker room. All the tension she’d worked out in practice was worming its way back into her body. Eomer started to follow her, calling her name, but she didn’t listen. Eowyn headed straight to the showers, cranking on the water so her brother wouldn’t be able to talk. She let the hot blast wash over her face for a moment before beginning to strip. Her uniform was already soaked in sweat anyway, so this wasn’t much of a difference. Distantly she heard the sounds of Eomer puttering around the locked room and soon the rest of the team filed in, filling the small, tiled space with such a clamor she could barely hear herself think.

Eowyn loved playing football, really. She loved pushing herself, getting stronger, being on a team, _winning_ (though that hadn’t happened for a while, and she knew Theoden blamed her for it). And she had Eomer, which was nice sometimes. But she was missing friends. Real friends. Not a team mate, or a coach, or a brother, but an actual, true, _not-related-to-her_ friend. Someone to back her up, help her get better. Someone to tease. Merry might just be the answer, if he didn’t get her kicked off the Riders first.

* * *

“So then _I_ said, ‘I don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip!’”

It had been a few weeks since Eowyn had first met Merry, and now they were eating lunch together. Also with them was Gimli, one of Eowyn’s classmates who had shown Merry around on his first day. This had been their arrangement for a few days now, and Eowyn liked it. Normally she either ate alone in the library or tagged herself onto her brother’s group, so having her own people was nice. Sure, this usually meant her lunch period consisted of Merry and Gimli swapping stupid anecdotes and dirty jokes, but Eowyn liked dirty jokes. More than that, she liked not having to listen to her brother talk about football like it took place on a battlefield (Eomer was one of those teenagers who was thoroughly brainwashed by army propaganda and had started to apply the principles he learned on ROTC message boards to things that definitely didn’t qualify for that kind of intensity.)

As Gimli roared with laughter over Merry’s story, Eowyn leaned across the table inquisitively.

“This is the third time you’ve told us a story about Pippin. Are you ever going to explain who this mystery man is? Or, wait,” Eowyn grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Does he live in Canada?”

Merry scoffed incredulously. “No! Look, I’ll show you a picture of him.”

He pulled out a scuffed Android in a dark green case, singed finger prints melted into the back. Gimli and Eowyn looked at each other, silently agreeing not to ask.

Merry tapped around for a moment, before- “Here! There he is! Peregrin Took, age 16, my best friend.”

As Eowyn scanned over the image she joked, “What, are you saying I’m not…” Pippin was short like Merry, with curly hair and a somehow even more mischievous grin.

“Your best…” He was wearing…

“Friend.” He was wearing a small Gondor Guards pin.

It nearly blended in with his dark shirt, so Eowyn wasn’t surprised Gimli hadn’t noticed it. But she’d know it anywhere, any place, any time.

She looked away from the phone and up at its owner.

“Merry,” she said directly, “Where does your _friend_ go to school?”

“Oh shit,” muttered Gimli, staring down at his lunch tray intently.

Merry looked at both of them, then dawned with realization.

“Oh! He, well, I mean, yes, he goes there but like, he’s barely on the team anyw-”

“He’s _on the team_!” shouted Eowyn, slamming her fists to the table.

No one turned to look at her, because they were in a school cafeteria and it was already loud as hell. After a tense moment, she swooped down and grabbed his wrists for a third time since they’d met.

“What position?” she whispered, attempting to cut into him with her gaze. This information could change everything.

“Waterboy.” he whispered. She immediately dropped his wrist and sat back down, all tension dissolved from her face.

As she picked up her fork to continue eating her mac and cheese, she commented, “That position’s basically ceremonial.”

Merry laughed, only a little uneasily. “That’s what I said! He’s basically an unpaid mascot!” He quieted for a moment. “Am I going to have to be waterboy too?”

“No, of course not,” comforted Gimli warmly, at the same time Eowyn went: “Maybe.”

She wanted to be honest with the kid. “If you fuck up too much, Coach gave me the power to demote you.”

This wasn’t entirely true, but instilling a strong sense of fear into Merry couldn’t hurt. Unfortunately, he seemed fairly unfazed.

“Then I guess,” he said, leaning onto the table and accidentally sticking his elbow in mash potatoes along the way, “You’ll have to train me.”

Eowyn reached to clasp Merry’s hand, purposefully sticking her elbow in her mac and cheese.

“Deal.”

“And my axe!” yelled Gimli as he stuck his elbow in chicken alfredo in solidarity and slapped his hand on top of the pair’s (the quip was a reference to an earlier anecdote too long to recount here).

Eowyn grinned at her guys. It was time to whip some short homeschool guy ass into shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just learned that the high school football season only runs in the winter? Fuck that noise, it's actually year-long.


End file.
